


getting in deeper

by vivilove



Series: Tattoos & Scars [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, Ex-con Jon, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mentions of past abuse, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23253991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: "How'd you get a girl like that?" one of the guys at the shop asks, astounded when she walks in at six to pick him up.Jon can't blame him.  He's pretty astounded too that Sansa seems to want to be with him.  Yeah, she left that fancy college of hers and she's not working anywhere yet but she will.  She'll do amazing things.  He'll do amazing things to motorcycles and that's about it.Guys like him don't get girls like Sansa.  And if they do...they don't bring them along for parole office visits.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: Tattoos & Scars [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660783
Comments: 70
Kudos: 267





	getting in deeper

Things are changing with them. He can feel it. 

Five weeks have passed since the start when she'd traced the henna tattoos on his skin in her bedroom and wound up etching herself into his veins. It's been three weeks since that first time at Mance's shop after hours. They're falling into a pattern. They've got a good thing developing between them. 

Good things make Jon nervous. Guys like him don't get good things. Guys like him definitely don't get girls like Sansa. 

And if they do...they don't bring them along for parole office visits. 

“You don’t have to wait here. It’s okay if you want to go back to the car.”

To be honest, he’s not sure he wants her in the parking lot either but at least she could roll up the windows and lock the car doors. And at least her car doesn’t smell like three-day old egg salad like this place.

“It’s fine, Jon. I’d rather stay with you.” She tucks a strand of red silk that’s escaped her ponytail behind one ear, an ear sporting a mother-of-pearl earring, no less. “It’s cold out there.”

She gives a little shiver and his eyes dip down to her chest. Yeah, it’s cold out. And the blouse she’s wearing under her powder blue cardigan doesn’t hide the fact she never put her bra back on earlier.

However, he also notices the way she’s clutching his arm when the cum stain wearing a trucker hat starts checking her out. Jon gives him a glare and then cracks his knuckles to make his point crystal clear. He gives Jon a long look and decides to find something else to look at.

“Name,” the old bat at reception says tersely when he steps up to the counter.

“Snow.”

“Your full name.”

He’s been coming here every Tuesday for reporting day for four months now but he supposes she sees a lot of faces and doesn’t remember him.

“Jon Snow.”

“That’s not your first name,” she smirks.

He rolls his eyes. He knew she remembered him. She’d remarked on his tats once. He suspects she’s picked up on the fact that he hates his first name, too. “Aemon,” he bites out.

“Thank you, Aemon,” she says sweet as sugar…and mocking as hell. “Take a seat.”

His face feels decidedly warm as he takes a seat in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to Sansa.

“Is your name really…”

“Yeah.”

“I never knew that.”

_Because I never shared that with anyone as a kid._

Robb had seen him filling out a test paper once and asked. It’d been one of those standardized tests the state would give to sort you into their little categories for school based on your responses to fifty-three multiple choice questions. He’d convinced Robb he was pulling a prank on the teacher even though they’d all acted like those tests (which absolutely must be taken with a #2 pencil with the answer bubble properly filled in) were akin to the Second Coming in their importance.

“My dad picked the first name when my mom was still pretty out of it at the hospital. She started calling me by my middle name when I was four months old after he took a hike.” Seriously, fuck that guy.

“I’m sorry.”

“What for? It’s just a name.”

She gives him a look and he knows she meant that more about his dad than the name. He shrugs to show how he doesn’t care about his old man, not one bit.

“I like the way Jon sounds better.”

“I like the way Jon sounds when you’re moaning it,” he whispers in her ear. “I especially like hearing it when I’ve got my mouth on your…” She’s blushing when he finishes that sentence.

She hooks her ankle around his booted foot and nudges his shoulder. He grins and their hands are linked. It could almost be like they’re on a date.

Except it’s not and he wishes she didn’t even know this place existed. Despite the fresh henna wolf tattoo he’d painstakingly stenciled around her wrist last night, no one would look at Sansa with her designer handbag, one of the ones Mrs. Stark’s been buying her every year for her birthday since she turned fourteen, and think for one second she belongs here.

“I’m sorry to bring you here.”

“I don’t mind. I wanted to give you a ride.”

She’d been very nice coming over early to give him a ride this morning. Then, he’d wound up giving her a ride. They were only forty-five minutes late.

“Snow! Aemon Snow!” his parole officer bellows to the crowded waiting room.

He groans and raises his hand. “Here.”

The old man gestures for him to hurry up as Jon rises, casting a look back at Sansa. He looks around the room and Trucker Hat’s looking her way again. He takes her hand and pulls her to her feet.

“Hey, Mr. Mormont? Can she come back with me?”

If the crusty old ass says no, he’s walking out. Fuck this place.

Thankfully, he doesn’t and Jon’s not forced to violate parole today.

* * *

"How'd you get a girl like that?" one of the guys at the shop asks, astounded when she walks in at six to pick him up. 

Jon can't blame him. He's pretty astounded too that Sansa seems to want to be with him. Yeah, she left that fancy college of hers and she's not working anywhere yet but she will. She'll do amazing things. He'll do amazing things to motorcycles and that's about it. He's getting in deep, falling hard for her and he knows it's probably stupid. He just can't seem to stop himself. 

"Dunno," he shrugs before heading off to scrub the grease from under his fingernails the best he can. 

When he returns, she's chatting with Mance and Dalla. Mance's girlfriend likes Sansa. Why wouldn't she? She says Sansa's classy and Jon had better not fuck up. He wishes it was that simple. 

"What'd you do today?" he asks when they're alone in the entrance of Mance's shop. She'd dropped him off at work after the parole office and he wants to know how she's filled the intervening hours. He's missed her. 

She grins and he can tell she's happy he asked and is excited to tell him. "I signed up for some summer courses at the local community college. It's not much but it'll get me back on track."

"That's great." She should finish school. She was meant to do something grand and he'll be proud of her whatever she chooses to do. "We should celebrate."

"Really?" 

"Yeah, why not? We'll get some dinner, some place nice." Some place nice but inexpensive is the unspoken rule here but Sansa never seems to mind. 

"I'd like that." She laces her fingers through his. He looks down at them and feels his heart give a lurch at the sight. He's getting in too deep for her but it's inevitable, he supposes. If only him fucking up somehow or maybe her just seeing him a little more clearly and realizing she could do so much better didn't feel inevitable, too. 

Her cool hand cups his face and she's tilting his chin up so he meets her eyes again. "You okay?" 

"I'm great. I'm with you. I'm taking my beautiful college girl to dinner tonight." She giggles, nuzzling at his neck as they head to her car. _I'm with you...for however long you want me._

* * *

“You like that?”

“Yes.” She arches her back when he squeezes her ass and pulls his mouth back a touch. “Please…”

“Please what?” he teases from between her thighs, knowing how his hot breath caressing her skin will make her tremble. 

Her eyes are narrowed as she peers down the expanse of her glistening torso to meet his eyes but he knows she’s not really pissed. “Please, don’t stop, Jon,” she begs, shifting her hips forward a touch and bringing her pussy right up to his face again. 

He inhales the musky scent of her, nosing his way through soft and springy red curls while letting his tongue deftly explore her folds. 

Yeah, he’s got a bit of a kink maybe. Some guys, especially guys inside, would give him shit if they knew how much he enjoys this but he does. He loves it when a woman allows him this, shows her trust in him this way, when she’s allowing herself to be vulnerable and receive what he can give her. He loves making a woman’s toes curl and hearing her screech his name, too. And, he’s decided he likes eating Sansa’s pussy in particular better than just about anything he can name. 

She clutches at the sheets, the ones he washed again yesterday after she’d left. He’ll wash them every day if it keeps her coming back to his bed. There’s not much he can give her but he’ll give her the best he can manage and, if that include cleans sheets and tonguing her whenever she wants it, so be it.

She shudders and cums, her fingers clinging to his hair and her legs shaking. She’s probably only half aware of the filthy things he’s said in between lapping at her cunt, teasing her clit and fingering her. And the funny thing is, she’s been saying her share of filthy things, too. Who would’ve thought Sansa Stark had a mouth like that on her? Well, Jon knows she does anyway.

“Come here.”

Her legs fall open and her eyes are so soft as she raises her arms to beckon him. 

He’s confused for a second. She wants him…on her. This is a first. _‘Can I be on top? I feel saf-’_ she’d said the first time they’d had sex at Mance’s three weeks ago. She’s been on top every time and he’s determined to make her feel safe. But now, she wants this. 

Never one to wade in when he can dive head first though, Jon crawls up the bed, his body hovering over hers.

“Kiss me?” She asks so sweetly, making his heart melt. God, he’ll kiss her all day if she wants it. 

He lowers himself to get closer but he’s still propped on elbows and knees, his chest not quite touching her tits. His cock pokes her hip but his kiss is tentative, probing. He’ll let her taste herself on his tongue. 

The kiss goes on, turns deeper, hungrier until he’s panting. She’s spread her legs a little wider and wiggled her hips until he’s positioned against those fiery curls down there. 

“Now, Jon,” she moans just as he’s started kissing his way back down towards her tits. 

He scrambles to reach for a condom on the nightstand. It’s not far. His bed’s only a double. He nearly knocks the damn packet off. “You fucker,” he mildly curses the errant thing. Sansa’s giggling as the crinkle of the wrapper and his bated breath fills the otherwise quiet room. “Are you sure?” he asks when he’s raised up to his knees and ready to roll it down his dick.

“I’m sure,” she nods. “Make love to me.” 

Fuck. _Make love to me._ He wants nothing else.

He covers her with his body, carefully allowing himself to close that gap he’d left between them when he’d been kissing her. Their hips are even, their bellies touch, her tits are squished against his chest. Her breath hitches when he fills her and his mouth’s hanging open because it feels so good. It always feels good with Sansa but this is new and so intimate. _Make love to me_. He wants to love her and wishes she might love him, too.

After, when they’re sweaty and sated and she’s letting him hold her close while her hands drift over his muscled arms and chest, skimming his tats, he asks about one of the many things that's been eating at him for a while now. Why did she come back mid-year? Why does she feel safer on top? 

She hesitates at first but then the story comes out. She’d been a college student down south. Guys had flocked to her like flies to honey and one had managed to worm his way into her affections. He’d said sweet things…until the sweet things had turned cruel. He’d given her kisses…until he'd decided to pinch, shove or slap instead. He’d made love to her…and then it had become about dominating her and showing her who was in control.

“What was his name?” He didn’t growl that one bit.

She rolls to her side so she’s facing him after making her admissions to the cracked ceiling above. Her eyebrows raise and she smirks at him.

He _may_ have growled his question just a little bit.

“What are you going to do if I tell you?”

“I won’t do anything if you don’t want me to.” _Except kick his ass if I ever meet him._

“He’s down there and I’m up here."

"He bothered you any since you came home?"

Her eyes dart away for a second. He has.

His mouth twists into a frown and he can feel the rage bubbling up but he keeps his voice even. "Sansa?"

"Just a couple of phone calls. It was nothing," she shrugs as her eyes find his again.

"Doesn't sound like nothing."

"Don't worry." She smiles, a sunny, sweet thing meant to calm him, distract him. 

It doesn't work. "I'll worry." _Or maybe he should._

"I’d just rather forget him.”

He reaches for her hand, draws it up to his mouth for a kiss, a lingering one where his tongue teases her knuckles. She bites her lip, still giving him half a smirk. “He’s forgotten then.” He's not remotely forgotten but he'll respect Sansa's wishes. He'll be good for her. He'll _try_ and be good for her. 

“Thank you, Jon.” 

She snuggles close and sighs. It’s getting late. She’s probably ready to sleep. He probably should, too. He’s got to be at Mance’s early tomorrow. 

Still, that rage keeps bubbling and building inside whenever he thinks about that guy. Jon’s always had a trigger, he knows. And anytime he thinks about any man hurting a woman like that, it sets that trigger off. 

It probably started back when he was a scared little kid who couldn’t do shit but helplessly listen to his mother crying in the night for help that would never come. His father had been the first but there’d been a couple of others who were no better back then. 

That flicker of rage’s in danger of growing into a massive conflagration if he lets it. The lady at his group would tell him to walk through his little ‘calming exercises.’ He’s ordered to attend the group once a week by Mormont and that’s the reason why he goes. 

It’s not that he thinks he’s above it all. He’s done some bad shit, he knows. He’ll jump through their hoops so they can label him as ‘rehabilitated’ or whatever in another twenty-three months. He’d let Ygritte talk him into some things when he was young and dumb and thinking with his dick that he never should’ve done but he can’t lay the blame at her feet. That’s on him. He made the choices to act as he did. He’s acted far more often than he should’ve. 

But Jon would never _ever_ hurt a woman. And somewhere, there’s some nameless fucker still breathing who _hurt_ Sansa. He seriously doubts his ‘calming exercises’ would help much if they met.

Drawing a deep breath, he dares to ask something else. “Will you stay over?” She’s never stayed the night before but then again he’s never asked until tonight. His apartment's shit but she genuinely doesn't seem to care. 

He doesn’t bother to hide how much he wants her to stay tonight. He’s too wiped out, pleasantly exhausted from the sex and mentally drained from the parole office and trying to curb that desire to hurt that nameless pile of shit who hurt her to pretend it doesn’t matter to him whether she stays or not. He can play cool and coy when he must but with Sansa...fuck, he can't. He's getting in deep and there's no point pretending otherwise even to protect that candy ass heart of his.

“Yeah, I’ll stay. You got a spare toothbrush?”

“ _Uhhh_ …you can use mine,” he offers sheepishly and then starts laughing at the way her nose crinkles up. “You're saying you can’t use my toothbrush after I just had my mouth on your…”

“I’m sorry but I simply couldn’t!” she giggles.

"Are you going to make me run to the store now?" 

She shakes her head...and then nods. Does that again...and then again. 

He laughs and starts tickling her. She’s shrieking and writhing on the bed beneath him but he’s careful not to pin her. He keeps it playful, wants her to know she’s in control when it comes to him and it can stop whenever she says. 

But when he grinds against her at one point to let her feel his rapidly thickening erection, she moans a ‘yes’ and he rolls to his back. Neither of them are ready to sleep just yet, it seems and that toothbrush is momentarily forgotten. 

Afterwards, he’s coming back from the world's fastest trip to the mini-mart where toothbrushes are apparently more expensive that a fucking gallon of gas when he finds her dressed for bed and waiting for him. His heart starts pitter-pattering like some lovelorn idiot’s when he sees it’s one of his tees. 

"It's soft," she says by way of explanation.

"It's old." A million, zillion washes will do that. 

"Do you mind?" 

Does he mind? Is she kidding? "No, I don't mind. It's never looked so good. Let's get some z's." 

They lie down after she brushes and she nestles close, holding onto his arm as her breathing evens out.

“Sansa?”

“Mmm?”

“If he calls again...or anyone ever bothers you, will you tell me?” 

He only wants to protect her. He's not killing anyone. He's not kicking the shit out of anyone...unless he manages to get them alone in a dark alley. _I'll never be good but I'll try to be good for you._

Her eyes open and they're like sapphires shining in his darkened bedroom, studying him. She's sizing him up and he knows she's looking for those unspoken words. “I’ll tell you,” she promises before those eyes drift closed again. 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry this is just a little thing but I'm struggling to focus on longer WIPs right now with kids at home and my own work schedule altered. Anyway, I think there'll be two more parts to this series before it's done. 
> 
> Hoping all of you are well and thank you for reading :)


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